Minor Thing
by Katrina Puffinstuf
Summary: It's Hermione's wedding day, and all things are good in the wizarding world. Still, she can't help but let her mind wander to a more dangerous time, when she sought solace and escape in the arms of an older man. HrSB, HrR
1. Chapter 1

**Minor Thing**

by K-trina Puffinstuf

Hermione sipped her tea alone at the enormous dining room table in Number Twleve Grimmauld Place. It was the beginning to what was meant to be the happiest day of her life. The dress, sparkling pure white, was hanging in the bedroom they had been staying in since the end of the War, and the bridesmaids' dresses were a deep velvety green. The bridesmaids themselves were still fast asleep in various rooms of the house, and as for her husband-to-be, well--Harry had thrown him a massive stag party and no one had heard from them since last afternoon. She mused to herself that he was probably terrified to actually tie the knot and was getting a major case of 'cold feet'. A smile passed over her face quickly as she stared blankly across the room, her eyes glimpsing a small portrait at the end of the room.

She had seen the portrait many times before, but that did not stop her from setting down her tea and approaching the small framed photograph. Upon seeing it, the photograph with the four happy faces staring up at her, waving enthusiastically, she immediately felt tears prick her eyes. She pinpointed _him_ immediately, his dark hair long and raven-black--unmistakable. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she could have had such a close friend when she needed one so desperately...

--

Tears fell down the girl's face like rain as she tore up the stairs at breakneck speeds, clutching the piece of parchment in her hand tightly. Her body shook with immeasurable melancholy--anger, fear, hatred, and sadness enveloped her person as she threw herself into the dusty room on the topmost floor of the Black Mansion. She heard a loud rustle, knowing that she must have awoken Buckbeak from his slumber, but she didn't care. She ripped the parchment open and forced her eyes to read the rest of the letter.

_Hermione--_

_I can not make you understand why we can not see each other anymore. It is very hard. I feel like that when we are together we are very happy and have a strong love. But it can not continue. My parents say that..._

Hermione crumpled the paper back up, her resolve to finish the letter annihilated. Sobs racked her body as she thought of Viktor, his poor English skills, and how his writing skills were nearly as bad by comparison. She thought of how he could never get her name right, butchering it with his gorgeous, Slavic voice. Viktor Krum, the first boy (man, rather) that ever saw something in her...

_...that they want me to do things that you would not agree with. The things we talked about once before, I am sure you recall. I can not put you into that danger. I do not want your blood to be on my hands..._

"_Then don't do it!"_ she said to the parchment hoarsely, tearing it as she crunched it between her hands and threw it across the room. She sat down hard again the wall next to Buckbeak's little sleeping nest. She held her throbbing head in her hands and cried until the tears wouldn't come anymore. Buckbeak sidled up next to her curiously, awkwardly bowing in front of her face. His bright yellow eyes gazed into hers, and he let out a little squawk. She lifted a hand to pet the creature, stroking his feathers softly. The petting calmed her nerves ever so slightly. She leaned her head on the hippogriff and let more tears flow forth.

"Viktor," she whispered through her tears. "Why _him_ too? Why is everyone involved in this war!" Through it all, she calmly noticed that she was, in fact, talking to a hippogriff. She leaned her head up against the wall and stared at the ceiling. "This is so..." She trailed off. There were no words for heartbreak.

Buckbeak clicked his talons against the floor and nudged his head into hers. "What will I write back to him, huh, Beaky?" she said to the half-bird, half lion, now crouched on it's haunches. He crooned a mournful note and looked towards the doorway, cocking his head to the side inquisitively.

Hermione, too, looked in that direction. "Is someone there?" she asked out loud nervously. She got to her feet, pulling out her wand instinctively. At first, there was a stumbling noise and then coughing. Suddenly, a head poked out from the doorframe. Buckbeak ran careening over to the door to greet his master playfully. Hermione held a relieved hand to her thumping chest.

"Hi, Sirius," she said, feeling rather silly, covered in dust, tears, and hippogriff feathers. Feeling awkward and sheepish, she made to leave the room. "I was just coming up here to--"

"Buckbeak," he said, while petting the hippogriff's head roughly, "is a great friend when you need someone to talk to." He strode over to Buckbeak's feed bags and filled them with fresh food (consisting of dead weasels and ferrets). "But," he said, eyeing the teary-eyed girl who was making to help him with the feed, "you look like you need more than Hippogriff Therapy. What has happened?"

She sniffled softly. Tears began to well in her eyes again. She looked upward to help prevent the flow of them down her cheeks. She did not want Sirius to see her going absolutely ballistic over something as trivial as being dumped; after all, to Sirius, she really was the 'cleverest girl in her year'. "Oh, well," she said, biting back a torrent of tears. "It's not really a big deal. I just needed to be alone."

Sirius looked at her knowingly. He shook his head and said, "What boy could possibly want you to feel this way?" He placed a hand on her trembling shoulder gently as she looked up at him, confused.

Hermione looked slightly defeated as she turned her eyes towards the animal that was now tearing up his dead rodent dinner. "It is that easy to tell?" she said, wiping tears away from her eyes quickly with a sniffle.

"Hermione, understand that you are speaking to a man who has been locked up in the unhappiest place on earth for thirteen years with only his worst memories to accompany him," he said quickly. "I know real pain when I see it," he said bitterly. "Worse," he said, consciously more gently, "I know the pain of love when I see it."

The tears came forth from Hermione's eyes like waves. She turned into the man suddenly and grasped him tightly, crying into his chest. "V-V-Viktor is to become a... s-s-said he couldn't see me anymore c-c-cause..." She could not go on with words, and continued to sob into Sirius.

The man leaned his head onto hers, stroking her hair soothingly. He did not say a word to the girl, and let her emotions flow without stopping right through his sweater and onto the skin of his chest.

--

Hermione found herself dabbing tears away from her face as she put down the photograph. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny yawning and stretching at the other side of the room. Upon seeing each her, Hermione plastered a sheepish grin on her face and pushed the photograph aside as she greeted her friend.

Ginny welcomed her with a sisterly embrace. "You're up early on your big day!" she said cheerfully. "Having your last morning to yourself, eh?" When Hermione didn't respond promptly, she looked at her face concernedly and scanned it quickly. Small tears still continued to form in the corners of her eyes, and she blushed slightly. "Wait... have you been crying, Hermione?"

Hermione allowed a sheepish grin to cross her face. She wiped away her tears and said, "It's nothing, really."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Molly Weasley had treated Hermione like a daughter ever since the girl was twelve years old. Ten years later to the date, she was officially going to gain her as a daughter as she took her youngest son's hand in marriage. It was, therefore, only proper for her to hold down the fort at Grimmauld Place as the girls prepared for the ceremony. Through all the hustling and bustling of the almost absurd number of females in the place, Mrs. Weasley took her usual post in the kitchen, her wand tending to about ten things at once. She was making a light lunch on the countertop and stove, mending rips in dresses, _Accio_ing pins and needles from all over the house to alter dresses temporarily, barking orders quickly to the ladies. After all, it was a busy day!

She eyed the bride-to-be with slight apprehension. Hermione was very quiet and unusually subdued. Molly noticed that she would often pace around the kitchen, the locket she usually wore about her neck curled into her fist, and then leave the room quickly. Moments later, she would hear someone pounding about upstairs a few floors.

She was even more subdued when Molly confronted her about it. She used great avoidance tactics and assured her that she was just a little nervous about the ceremony and was worried if her parents would be able to make the flight into London in time, as they hadn't called as of yet. It was a 'minor thing'. Molly knew that the girl was quite upset over something, and that something was far from minor...

--

"Tell me more about him," said Sirius, picking the dead bugs out of Buckbeak's feathers. "What did he act like when you two first met? Did he know then that his parents would make him into a Death Eater then, and he still went with you, knowing that you were friends with Harry?"

"No, he liked me before he knew I was a friend of Harry's," she said with a sigh shifting her weight from one side to the other, rather nervously. "But I don't know if I should go into the _rest _of it," she said. Hermione felt her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as she brushed the hippogriff's feathers so they were smooth. "You're just going to think it's silly and so typical of a girl my age."

The dust in the air clouded Sirius' face slightly, but Hermione could still see his characteristic smile break out through it. "Oh, Hermione, really?" he laughed. "I remember what it was like to be young like it was yesterday!" He chuckled a bit longer and finished, gazing over at her with a boyish grin plastered on his face, "I miss it."

"Yes," she said, returning his glance for a moment, and then turning her face towards the ground. "Well, it must have been easier without You-Know-Who tearing people apart," she said bitterly. "It was hard enough having every girl after him at Hogwarts, and then Ron absolutely hounding me every moment of the day, and--"

"Perhaps Ron doesn't approve because he has feelings for you that are more than friendly?" he said matter-of-factly. "Boys tend to be idiots when they are jealous, for future reference."

Hermione pretended to vomit and then chuckled. "Ron noticed that I was of the female sex for the first time this past year," she said with a hard laugh. "He doesn't see anything in me, he goes for girls like Fleur and... well.. girls that are more..." She trailed off, turning redder. _When did the conversation suddenly take a turn down this path? _ "That are prettier."

Sirius rolled his eyes, saying, "Girls like Fleur would never make a person like Ron happy." He gave another laugh and said, "He goes after girls like Fleur because he knows it will never work." Hermione shot him a quizzical look.

"But how does that make sense, Sirius," she said. "She is gorgeous, talented, and well... _relatively_ intelligent, not that Ronald holds much esteem when it comes to brains. Why would he want it to fail when it seems like he so desperately _wants_ her." She sighed deeply. "Wasn't I going to tell you about Viktor?"

Sirius looked down and busied himself with Buckbeak, cleaning his feathers with a soft brush. The silence was unusually awkward. Hermione went over to the feed tray and emptied the last of the bag into it to preoccupy herself. Then she walked over to the window and stared across the decomposed grounds that were the gardens of the Black Mansion. She was not entirely surprised when she felt Sirius join her at her side, leaning on his elbows. His presence was soothing but strangely disconcerting at the same time. She glanced over at him and found that he, too, was giving her a sidelong glance. Their eyes met briefly.

Hermione nodded and said, slowly, "Viktor and I met in the library. He would follow me there and take out books at random and pretend to read them."

"Ah, the Hogwarts library," said Sirius reminiscently. "The haven of all young and brainy lovers. Not that brainy is a bad thing," he said as he noticed Hermione's face screwed up in a frown.

"Anyway," she continued, "He finally got the guts up to talk to me. He told me that I was the most clever girl he had ever encountered, and just the fact that he really _valued_ that in a person just... it said so much... about..." Hermione trailed off, biting back tears pricking at her eyes.

Sirius sighed and put a caring arm around her. Even though his touch made her tense, it also seemed to strengthen her resolve. Coming around, she said, "It really did seem like every girl at Hogwarts was after him. I had to keep it a secret from Harry and Ron because they'd never believe it and just take it out of me. The more I hid it from them, the more I really started to like him, Sirius! I liked him a lot, and it didn't matter that he was older and _far _more experienced with girls than any boys I know, and things moved so fast that we--" Hermione stopped abruptly as Sirius made an involuntary movement, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly. Silence, even more uncomfortable as the last, once again descended between the two. They stared at the grounds, unspeaking and unmoving.

"Hermione," said Sirius, after what felt like forever, "I just want you to know that your secrets are safe with me. " He turned to face her and look her into the eyes, adding, "And free from judgement. You can tell me anything if you need to..."

The girl looked at him as he trailed off, not being able to believe her eyes or ears. Suddenly, there was an immense lump in her throat, and she was unable to utter a word without sounding incompetent. Small tears began forming in her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Hermione stood on a small raised platform in her wedding gown in the Headmistress' office, where Ginny, Tonks, Luna, and Mrs. Weasley stood, either putting finishing touching on her dress or hair with flicks of their wands or admiring her, gushing about how happy of an occasion this was. Any moment now, Minerva would come up the staircase and let them know that the ceremony was ready to begin down in the Great Hall.

Once all of the tweaking and touching up was finished, Hermione was able to step down off the podium and walk around the room. She walked over to the full-length mirror (slowly, as the shoes were maddeningly uncomfortable to walk in without falling face-first floorward) at the opposite edge of the room. She gasped when she saw her reflection staring back at her.

The gasp was for many reasons. For one, she could not find a single reason to complain about her hair, which, even with the usual liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Serum, always had a few stray frizz hairs looks. Secondly, it all came hitting her very hard, seeing herself in the enormous white dress, that she, Hermione Granger, was going to leave her entire past behind the moment she uttered, "I do.' Which led her to the final reason--her locket, _the_ locket, was missing from her neck.

"Where is it?" she asked to herself, pressing the spot where the locket usually hung on her chest.

"Where is what, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley from across the room. The woman clearly had the keenest senses known to wizardkind.

"Um..." began Hermione sheepishly, "well, it probably seems rather silly, but I was wondering, well... you know that locket I've always worn, right?"

"Oh, that one," said Mrs. Weasley with a certain hint of displeasure in her voice. "I didn't think you would want to wear it with the dress, you know? It certainly wouldn't, er, _complement _it, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione nearly ignored this comment, saying, "Have you seen it, though?" She began rummaging through a suitcase that she had brought with her, throwing her clothing and accoutrements around in it. After a thorough search, she snapped the suitcase shut with frustration.

"Hermione, stop fussing about," said Mrs Weasley, showing her motherly qualities in full-force. "I know you must be nervous, but you can't go around looking for lost lockets at a time like this! Minerva will be here any second..."

While Hermione let Mrs. Weasley have her rant, she now continued her search around the tables and the floor. In the midst of it, Tonks approached her from the side.

"No luck, eh?" said Tonks in a strangely bright voice.

"No luck," Hermione repeated. "I just really want to find it because... well... it's quite important to me and..."

Tonks eyed her carefully. "Who gave it to you?" she asked, lowering her voice so that Hermione could only hear her.

Taken aback by this question, she avoided Tonks' gaze, which had become particularly harsh and threatening. "It was... well, y-y-you know," she stammered. "That guy I... so long ago... I suppose its a small thing, really..."

The two girls studied each other and tension mounted. Hermione's face was flushing despite the makeup and before she could stop it, her eyes began to tear up slightly. Silence dominated. "Ah," said Tonks, breaking it. Her eyes gleamed with knowing. "My cousin..."

--

Hermione smoothed her hair with her wand, staring at her reflection in the mirror, scanning her face and body and fixing where necessary. Her heart was pounding maddeningly as she stole a glance at the enormous grandfather clock that hung in the room. Turning tot he mirror once again, she fluffed and primped one last time. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and made her way up to Buckbeak's room. 

Each step she took on the old rickety staircase seemed to creak louder and louder as she approached the room that had been her safe haven for the past two months. It was a place where she could shamelessly empty her feelings out to a person that truly cared for her. To a person that she also cared about with a growing intensity.

Sure, she tried to tell herself that the man was, indeed, a _man_. She denied her attraction for the person that helped her figure out her heart when no one else could because of the awkwardness that it would bring. Slowly and surely, however, she let her mind and heart wander. _It's a minor thing_, she thought_, for me to have a slight schoolgirl crush on someone older, isn't it?_

Her hand laid upon the doorknob, covered in sweat now, was shaking with trepidation and nervousness that she had not felt since the night of the Yule Ball. With a surge of courage she pushed open the door, only to find Sirius sitting on the floor, arms resting upon his bent knees, head against the wall. The muscle in Hermione's stomach clenched with nerves upon seeing him.

"Well, well, well," he said, turning his head ever so slightly to look at her, the familiar half smile playing upon the corner of his lips. "Are we still having problems of the Krum-my sort or have we moved on?" He used air quotes around "Krum".

Hermione forgot herself entirely and let out a snort of laughter. "That was awful, Sirius," she said, realizing that her laughter choice was not entirely the most attractive one. Inwardly kicking herself, she did not seem to take notice that the man sitting on the floor gave her the eye and looked her over entirely.

"Hey, I don't have a lot to work with, here," he said, gesturing all around him. "I don't have much good around me in this house. What with my mother howling every single time someone opens the door and that lame excuse of an elf--_sorry_--(Hermione shot him an annoyed glance from above) and the Order keeping me locked up _forever_..."

Hermione bit her lip. "Surely you enjoy your time with Buckbeak?" she said cautiously, going over to pet the creature after a short bow towards him. "He's such a lovely companion, sometimes I wonder what I would do if I couldn't come up here and--"

"Well don't sell yourself short," he said, interrupting her, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up and then shaking it to the side (Hermione noticed, that he purposely drew a few pieces in front of his eyes, and bit her lip further, realizing that indeed looked far more attractive with his long hair askew around his face). "Talking to you is the greatest escape from the reality that I need to put up with downstairs with the Order every morning and evening."

"At least you know what's going on," she said in a scoffing tone. It always incensed her to know that she knew so much and so little at the same time about Order-related dealings.

At this, Sirius got up with a strange look in his eye. "Hermione, I would give anything for a bit of ignorance in this matter... to go back and be young again!" He again ruffled his hair roughly, looking at her out of the corners of his eye. "To be going to Hogwarts again and not worrying about You-Know-Who or who is going to be next on the growing list of his victims... and to not be trapped in this godforsaken excuse of a house!" His voice had grown to a shout, now. "To know what it feels like to be free... to be a man..." He was now at the window, staring out at the great blue cloudless sky that laid out overhead.

Hermione took a deep breath and strode over to him, placing a nearly trembling hand on his shoulder. He turned around slowly, facing her, his hair in front of his eyes. She took a single finger and brushed the hair out of his face. Her heart beat in her throat as she opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, he looked up, catching her eyes with his own gaze, and her mouth went dry. Speech had become an impossibility.

His eyes were impossible to read. Was that surprise that she saw in the small creases next to his eyebrows, or was that some sort of apprehension? Was he disgusted with her sudden approach or did he, too, desire a further escape from the pain of the world that they coexisted in for so long...

Sirius tried to stammer out a sentence or two, but nothing registered in Hermione's mind as she gazed into his eyes. His facial expression changed to something just as unreadable as he caught Hermione biting her bottom lip so nervously. Finally, words came forth from his mouth torrentially.

"Hermione, spending time with you these past few weeks have let me go back to my younger years, and I have grown so close to you. Still, however I may feel about you, I feel that if I let this progress to... anything more... well, your innocence is at stake here! If I were to take anything so precious away from you... I would... I could never..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Hermione bowed her head slightly, losing eye contact with him. When he saw her shoulders tense up, he grabbed her shoulder instinctively. "Are you..." As he tilted her face up by the chin, he expected tears. Instead, he found her laughing, her eyes alight.

"Sirius," she said once she calmed down, "have you not heard anything I've said over the past months? I live in the house where the Order of the Phoenix does business and I try and listen in whenever I possibly can. I dated someone who is now a Death Eater... and _then_ some. I've dueled people and hit people and even hexed a teacher from my school. Whatever innocence I had, Sirius," she said, pausing as his eyes curiously bore into her own, "I lost somewhere in between all of those incidents." She drew closer to him, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. "You've told me so many times that people are brought together and split apart for reasons that are beyond us... are you about to deny that?"

Sirius' mysterious eyes finally broke and a deep longing shown forth in them. "Of course not," he said softly, bringing a finger to her cheek. "I just don't know if it's..."

"When it comes down to it," said Hermione, slowly closing the gap of distance between the two of them, "the only thing that we know for sure are our innermost feelings... and what we do with--"

Sirius suddenly disrupted her mid-sentence, pressing his lips to hers and pulling her body painfully close to his own.

---

Tonks hastily gave Hermione a small handkerchief to wipe her eyes on, eying her with a mixture of emotions. Tonks had come to regard Hermione as a younger sister as she grew older and together, they confided the deepest secrets with each other. She always knew that Hermione had a fling with someone at a younger age, but she never would have guessed it to be her cousin. Her 35 year old cousin, at that. But still... the locket, that tell all look in her eyes as she fretted around for it. The way she teared up every time she saw that one photograph of the four boys...

Hermione wiped her eyes and thanked Tonks. An awkward silence descended.

"I..."

"You don't have to explain anything," said Tonks quickly.

"It wasn't his idea," said Hermione in a hushed voice.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but that doesn't mean he didn't go along wholeheartedly..."

"I wanted him to."

"Why?"

"We had the same problems, it was an escape!"

"You were young!"

"He..." began Hermione, out of breath from whispering so heatedly. "He wanted to be." She sighed heavily, looking Tonks squarely in the eyes. "He never grew up, you know that, Tonks, he never wanted to so he never did."

Tonks, too, sighed.

Professor McGonagall suddenly rushed in, coming between the two women.

"It's time, Hermione," she said with a kind smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The Great Hall was brimming with whispers and quiet conversation. Those whispers and conversations echoed in Ron Weasley's ears like fireworks as he waited at the front of the Hall. Although he looked great in his tuxedo dress robes and smiled as if he was getting paid for it, he was nervous as all hell. His knees shook inside of the robes and palms were sweating like mad. Still, he knew that the moment he saw her walk down the aisle that all of this fuss and insanity that ensued to put this wedding on would be worth it. He knew that of all of the girls he had ever seen, all that he had ever met or known, Hermione was the girl that turned his head first, even if it was because she was a bucktoothed brainiac.

Chords and fanfares blared out of the organ up above the Great Hall, and suddenly, everything went quiet, save for the music. The doors open and Ron's insides squirmed and ached. The procession began.

Two by two and clad in green, each of their greatest friends walked down the aisle, smiling (well, almost all, Tonks looked a little perturbed, but she forced a smile at Ron as she took her seat at the end of the row). Finally Harry and Ginny walked down the aisle and took their seats, the best man and maid of honor. His heart sped at a breakneck pace. It was her turn to take the walk...

Ron beamed as his stomach finally relaxed and unclenched, watching Hermione gracefully walk down the aisle with her father at her side. She looked like porcelain, breakable and fragile in her pristine white dress, her veil shading her eyes just so. When she reached the front and faced Ron, he caught a glimpse of her eyes through the veil. He smiled at her. She smiled back, but her eyes looked red and puffy. Ron shot her a small concerned glance, but she nodded it off. _It must be nothing..._ he thought.

"We are gathered here today to bear witness..."

-----

"Well, are you sure?" he said, looking her in the eyes quiet seriously.

The air was thick with the smell of hay and sweat, and sun shone in brightly through the window that they had finally managed to crack open.

"I've already told you," said Hermione, "I was fine!"

There on the floor, over a mound of hay and a large blanket, they laid together laughing loudly and making jokes. No one listening onto their conversation would ever think that minutes ago they were making love with the utmost passion.

"I'm just making sure," said Sirius, tracing a finger down her body softly. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I hurt you during this."

She laughed heartily, and although he could have sworn that she was biting back tears, it made him feel a little less awkward regarding the whole situation. "You aren't hurting me, Sirius," she said, kissing him softly. As he held her warm body in his arms, he felt the gratitude and love radiating off of her. Her kisses were young and experimental, something he had not felt in ages, not since he was so young himself.

As for her, she felt safe and right in the arms of her older friend. She and he, they had an understanding within their secret. Together, they could escape, if only for a moment or two, to a world where there were no Voldemorts or Death Eaters. No exams or books. A world outside of Grimmauld Place, or any earthly habitation, for that matter. Together, they created a bliss filled with everything they had lost in life, bringing it back to each other with cries of ecstasy and an odd sense of love that neither of them had ever experienced.

It wasn't that of lovers, where their moments of lovemaking were filled with lust and sexual frenzies, and yet, it wasn't that of romance, either. It was a gesture of kindness that, in turn, gave them the release that the real world around them couldn't. He cared for the girl like she was family, but she played not the wife or the girlfriend. What they were to each other, not even _they_ knew what to call it, but there was no doubt that whatever it was, it was love of the deepest kind.

And as they laid together, naked and comfortable, they treated it like the last time. Every time was the last time, because at times like these, any time could be the last time. So long as there was no expectation of it ever happening again, they would never be saddened if it didn't happen.

---

"And do you, Hermione Granger, take Ronald Weasley as your lawfully wedded husband..."

_"Hermione, I just want you to know that your secrets are safe with me..."_

"...to have and to hold..."

_...she squinted her eyes tightly as he moved into her at a quickening pace, the pressure of it all nearly blinding her with immeasurable pain, but the feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her... it was her sanctuary..._

"...for better or for worse..."

_"Do you think this _really_ will be the last time?" she said with an air of sadness._

_"You're back to school tomorrow, right?" he said with a sigh. "Then yes... I wish I could promise that I will be back for you come next summer..."_

_She turned to leave until she felt his warm, trembling hand on her shoulder._

_"Please take this," he said, holding a small locket in his hand. "To remember me... to remember this..."_

"...through sickness and health..."

_They wrapped up in their usual blankets, sheltering from the frigid cold and their combined nakedness. Still, their bodies burned hot as they moved ceaselessly onwards as one, striving to achieve the pleasure that gave them sanity in a time where the seemed to rule on both sides of the war..._

"...until death..."

_She let the silent tears stream down her face as she stroked Buckbeak's sleek feathers, laying in the hay pile that had become their bed, untouched from the time they had last laid in it months ago during the winter... it still smelled of him, and though it tortured her senses to be able to sense him and know he wasn't going to come back, and that thye indeed had a last time, it was the only comfort to know that he had actually, at one point, shared that same space with her... because he alone understood..._

"...do you part?"

Hermione did not hesitate as she clenched the locket in her first to the point where the corners of it dug sharply into her skin. "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the Minister. The audience waited with bated breath, waiting for the words that would seal the deal and lead onto the great reception that the house elves of Hogwarts had prepared for them. "You may kiss the bride..."

And as Ron took her into his arms, lifting the veil from her eyes, she felt the locket slip from between her fingers. For a moment, she tried to catch it, but as she stared into his eyes, eyes full of a warmth and understanding that she only saw in a person once upon a long time ago, she realized that it was time to move on and let go. Because the locket was only a locket, and the memories were hers forever. It was just a minor thing, after all.


End file.
